D M C
by Lux-Nero
Summary: Being a vassal of Laharl isn't easy... Many have thoughts of overthrowing the Overlord, and when a small group discovers a legend about a powerful Dark Knight Demon, they travel across the realms to acquire 'his' power...the power of Sparda... crossover
1. Chapter 1

**Vyser Dragoon:** Ya know, I've always wanted a fiction for these two games, but I never really could come up with an idea…that was before I was struck with an idea! How about a combination?

But before I get on with the story, I don't own Disgaea or…well, the title itself should speak for itself.

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_**The world was born of darkness.**_

_**Unending darkness, a crucible of chaos.**_

_**But, eventually light was born from deep within the darkness…splitting our very world into countless others, all ruled by an entity of order…**_

_**No one knows when it happened, but years upon years ago, a demon knight had turned against his own kind for the sake of mankind. Sealing the two worlds, the human and the demonic worlds, apart from each other, the demon knight had hoped that peace would arrive between the two.**_

_**That's how the story had gone in the ancient tomes that had long been forgotten by the generations that passed through the years. But, fate has a twisted sense of humor when it comes to those kinds of things…**_

_**Especially when the demonic world was split from the human world…**_

_**Fate is more like a river, ever flowing and never stopping…and always branching off in countless directions to flow to different ends.**_

_**And sometimes, those rivers of fate sometimes cross, combining into another destiny that could never be expected…**_

…_**this is one of those times…**_

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_**D M C**_

_**A Disgaea / ?? Fiction **_

_**By **_

_**Vyser Dragoon**_

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_**Prolonging Night**_

_**Following a Legend**_

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_Time: XX : XX_

_Location: The Netherworld,_

_Overlord's Castle_

The Netherworld…

A world where demons roam the land and the sky trapped in perpetual darkness, constantly fighting one another for their own selfish goals…however; there was one entity that presided over all in the nether world.

The Overlord…

The king of all demons in the Netherworld, a being of pure power that his word the very law that governed this chaotic world. Seated within the confines of the tall, jagged, black castle that seated on a plateau surrounded by a sea of unending flames, the Demon Overload watched over the land…his sharp eyes never blinking on the eternal war that engulfed his world, only intervening should the need ever arise (or if he became entangled in the conflict that didn't concern him)

Surely, whoever this Demon Overlord was, he was a benevolent leader, but still strong enough to have his vassals follow him respectably…

"BWA HA HA HA HA!"

…or perhaps not.

Prior to the current owner of the Overlord's throne, was King Krichevskoy, a real benevolent leader of the demon world. When he was in rule, King Krichevskoy managed to tame the savage nature of demons and peace managed to roam through out the Netherworld…

…this was of course before his tragic death. Two years had passed when a new, official Overlord had been proclaimed, and ironically, it was the late King Krichevskoy's own son, the very person who sat in the throne to this very day…

Overlord Laharl.

"That's the Great Overlord Laharl to you!"

Uh…right, 'ahem', the Great Overlord Laharl.

"That's better!"

Through his misadventures, trials and backstabs, the Great Overlord Laharl had acquired the most sought out title in the entire Netherworld. So, being an Overlord, what was his current order of business?

"What kind of crap is this!?"

"…I told you before; I'm a samurai, not a chef."

Apparently it was lunch in the Overlord's Castle, more specifically the dinning hall that could easily be mistaken for a church hall with the many stained glass windows that depicted hundreds of demonic overlords of previous generations. At the end of the mile long table sat the Overlord himself, tossing meager meal that was brought in front of him. "You're my vassal, and you'll do as you're ordered to do!"

That temper belonged to the Overlord Laharl…beg pardon, the 'Great' Overlord Laharl, child-like in appearance with his small skinny body, one look would cast looks of confusion and wonder if the information they received about the Overlord wasn't just fake. As stated previously, he was childlike in appearance with his body, his wild helmet-like, blue hair (save for the two antennae strands that protruded from the top) covered his forehead but pulled out of the way of his demonic pointed ears and daunting sharp eyes that glared at the food brought in front of him.

His small body was only draped by three articles of clothing, consisting of a large scarf that was easily twice the size (if not more) of his small body, a pair of red shorts with a black belt tied around his waist and fancy red shoes with golden trim on them.

Despite his appearance, it was well known in the Netherworld that this young child was in reality the Great Overlord Laharl and that his strength would not be easily matched…but that still didn't stop heroes from other worlds or parts of this very Netherworld. It was child's play for the most recent Overlord to defeat those so-called heroes…

…and every time he did, the Great Overlord Laharl would often get more vassals added to his ever growing collection of servants. Just like the young Samurai demon that stood to the side of the Overlord. "If you told turtle to fly, do think it would be able to do so?"

"What's this lip coming from a mere vassal?" Laharl growled, his eyes narrowing down upon his newest vassal.

Musashi was this young samurai's name, his long black hair tied back in a knot like others, and his muscular tanned body was covered with the traditional loose armored garb that a demon samurai would wear, save for the fact that it was a dark purple. One could hardly believe that a week ago, this young, prideful, demon samurai was the best swordsman in his village, cutting down almost every entity that dared to destroy this village.

Two weeks ago, Musashi had spied an ad that had floated all across the Netherworlds, one that promoted challenges to an evil Overlord of the Netherworld…plus, if one paid a certain amount of Hell, there was promise of a Plenair plush doll. Although he didn't need the plush doll, the prospect of defeating a demon overlord tickled Musashi's interest.

With hopes and dreams of fame, Musashi set out and within a week's time he had reached the Overlord's Castle, sword in hand and pride in his soul…

…unfortunately, his pride was easily crushed along with his precious katana under the foot of the Great Overlord Laharl. For the past week, Musashi was sentenced to be the Great Overlord's personal chef…there was just one problem…

"WHERE'S THE MEAT!?" Laharl roared, his eyes narrowed as he pushed several of the many dishes of food onto the ground.

"Master Laharl," Musashi grinded through his teeth. "I'm a vegetarian, I don't know how to cook meat dishes…"

"If I wanted fried rice with steamed celery, I'd asked for it," Laharl growled holding up one of the many plates of fried rice up. "But …I didn't, and I get crap for dinner!"

Musashi rolled his eyes, wishing that his katana wasn't sold off just the other day, "Would you rather eat that Fallen Angel's food?"

That comment seemed to have left the Great Overlord Laharl speechless…for a few seconds until he slammed the plate of fried rice right into Musashi's face, sending him to the ground with a loud thud. "HA! Too bad your fighting skills can't match up to your tongue, then you might've stood a chance stood a chance against me…"

Throwing the plate from off his face Musashi glared rusty daggers at the Overlord, however that just made Laharl laugh. "…or not! Now get out of my sight, I'm going have to order the Prinnies to get me some Taco Hell."

Without another word, Musashi walked away from the table, wiping the remains of the fried rice off his shoulders. '_…this cannot last…'_

"And get Yurii in here to clean…" Laharl chuckled sitting back in the large throne. "She and the Prinnies need to take care of this mess you made."

Even though his words didn't leave his lips, Musashi clamped his fist tightly around the doors handle as he was about to leave, slamming the door behind him loudly. Sure of himself that he was out of ear shot of the Great Overlord, Musashi slammed his fist into one of the nearby walls, cursing words that were short of gibberish and unable to make out.

After a few more punches to the wall, Musashi finally calmed down with his fist resting on the cracked and bloody wall. "…damn over egotistical…"

"Tsk, tsk, Overlord got to you again, eh, newbie?"

That snide voice, Musashi knew exactly who that belonged to…to his right was none other than a Red Skull mage, dressed in a baggy red hoodie that had a skull-design on the hood while his robes hung off his skinny body. "And if he did? What does it matter to you Renka?"

The young demonic mage lifted head up, revealing his boyish face covered with a pair of coke-bottle glasses, lined by the gray hair that contrasted his face by showing his true age as much older. "Tsk, tsk, it's never a good idea to enrage the boss around here…but you know that firsthand from last week now shouldn't you?"

"This coming from the Royal Toilet Scrubber," Musashi commented smirking wildly. "I suppose though I should consider myself lucky to be a chef than having your job, right Four-Eyes?"

"Hardy, har, har," Renka scoffed crossing his arms to reach into his large sleeves. "I'll have you know that I was the Overlord's Scripture Consultant…"

"The key word in that sentence, 'was'," Musashi replied shaking his slightly bloody hand before he turned around to get back to the kitchen. "Just like this conversation _was_ intriguing…but now if you excuse me, I've got a bandage around my hand and get back to my demeaning work."

"Whoever said this conversation stopped being intriguing?" Renka chuckled running in front of Musashi, his arms still crossed in his sleeves.

"What in the world are you babbling about?" Musashi sighed rolling his eyes.

"It's a common fact that many of the vassals hate the Overlord," Renka stated producing a small black book from his sleeves, spinning atop his bare fingers. "But, some have even created such a…oh, what's a good word to put it…ah, I know, some have even created a 'club' of sorts for that very purpose…"

"And I should care because?" Musashi asked, ignoring the stinging pain that rung through his hand. It was a good thing that demons were more resistant to pain than humans could ever be, otherwise he'd probably flinch a few times.

"…well, said club actually is interested in your skills, Musashi," Renka stated snapping his fingers around the book, fanning the pages out before he held the book in front of him. "For one simple…yet, challenging mission."

"…and what might this mission be?" Musashi questioned, keeping his eyes on the book…seeing that it was rather old and beginning to fall apart.

"Well, I can't divulge that answer," Renka replied flipping the pages in the book. "Not until we have your cooperation that is…"

"I'd rather know what I'm getting into," Musashi scoffed pushing Renka to the side into the wall to get past the annoying demonic mage. "Before I get myself into something that would get me killed."

"…can you honestly say that you enjoy being a vassal?"

Renka's words echoed through Musashi's mind, causing the forced chef to stop dead in his tracks. When Musashi didn't say anything, Renka slid in front of the former samurai, "Heh, now that I've got your attention…let me ask you something…"

"Have you ever heard of the Legendary Dark Knight…"

"…Sparda?"

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**Vyser D:** Just the prologue, but I hope that this will actually get somewhere, please review if you want to see what happens next!


	2. Night One: The Dark Knight’s Legacy

_**Night One**_

_**The Dark Knight's Legacy**_

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_Time: XX:XX_

_Location: Netherworld,_

_Overlord's Castle,_

_Overlord Laharl's Game Room_

"Upon two thousand years ago…

…when the demon and human worlds were once one, tragedy swept the lands, humans being hunted like the very beasts they sought out for nourishment. Everyday living in fear…every night spent in fear of it being your very last…all at the very hands of the demons that roamed the land, sky and even the sea.

Till one day, a single demon emerged from the depths of Demon Emperor's army, rebelling against his own kind. This without saying caused a riot among the demons…all hunting for the rebel demon's blood.

Unfortunately, the rebel demon was stronger than all the blood thirsty demons that came after him, and one by one, they were slain by his blade. No one knows how many demons were killed by his hands until he faced the Demon Emperor, Mundus. I would assume that the rebel demon managed to defeat that Demon Emperor, because the tale continues on by saying that the rebel demon sealed the gates to the demon world…

…sacrificing both his blood and that of a mortal priestess's. For such a selfless act, it was given that he became a legend in the human world, gaining him the moniker, The Legendary Dark Knight title…however, that incurred the notorious reputation amongst demons, several that were the remains of his slaying campaign…

…And that is the story of Sparda," Renka explained snapping the book shut as he sat on the ground. "And to answer your question…eh? HEY! HAVE YOU EVEN BEEN PAYING ATTENTION!?"

Apparently, Musashi didn't hear Renka; he was more preoccupied with the spare fired rice he had cooked up for the bratty overlord…more preoccupied by stuffing the food in Overlord Laharl's Slaystation 3. "…look, can't you see I'm busy, ya damn nerd."

"Tsk, tsk…you can't just tell me that you're not interested in the legend of the Dark Knight, can you?" Renka sighed walking around Musashi as the pissed off demon cook continued to pour the fried rice into the poor game system.

"Sorry, but I tend to lose interest when lectures take three hours," Musashi replied clapping his hands free from the leftover fried rice onto the Slaystation 3. "And you still didn't answer my question…what the hell is the point of this!?"

"Tsk, tsk, you never asked that question," Renka pointed out wagging his finger at Musashi, only to have his finger crushed in the grip of the cook vassal. "AH! AH! L-LET GO!"

"You're starting to get on my last nerves Renka," Musashi growled, tightening his grip to make the Red Skull fall to his knees. "Now either get to the point, or I'm going to be taking a few of these fingers as…"

"NO! Then alone time will be all for nothing!" Renka sobbed loudly, hard to tell it was for that reason or for the pain.

Musashi blinked a few times until he shook his hand free from Renka's, his tongue stuck out as he whipped his hand left to right, "UGH! I think I have to burn the skin off my hand now…"

Cradling his hand in his arms, Renka stood up, his eyes narrowed down at the disgusted Musashi, "Well, I think it's rather obvious that you're not going to be joining our little group…"

"Renka…that's enough out of you."

At the sound of the voice, Renka immediately fell back to his knees, his head lowered to the ground. Musashi blinked again in confusion as he turned to the side, seeing who had commanded Renka to finally shut up…only seeing a large daunting shadow standing in the Overlord's game room. It was hard to tell what the shadow was, but, the shadow was easy to see the shadow's glowing glazed eyes, two of which were red while in the shadow's forehead was a third, pulsing, glazed, blue eye. "…Who in the world are you?"

"I am Br- - -e," The mysterious shadow answered.

"Wait…what's your name?" Musashi asked cleaning his ear with his pinky. "I don't think I heard you…"

"Not a problem," the shadow replied. "My name is B- - -e."

"…is there something wrong with you?" Musashi questioned, blinking a few times in confusion. "I can't hear your name!"

"Tsk, tsk, don't you know who you're yelling at?" Renka growled jumping to his feet. "This is the guy who got our group together! So show some respect to him…"

"If I didn't show respect to the overlord," Musashi snarled. "What makes you think I'd show this no name some respect?"

"Why you…" Renka's body glowed a bright red, a fiery aura pulsing over his body as a powerful flame appeared in his hands. "How dare you disrespect Master B-!"

In a blur of darkness, the Shadow now stood in between both Renka and Musashi, a clawed hand grasping over Renka's glowing hand. "That is enough Renka…no need to raise a fist to our newest member…"

"Whoever said I'd join?" Musashi growled. "I still don't know what I'd be getting into if I did!"

"I must apologize," The shadow replied, bowing his head slightly towards Musashi. "Perhaps we should discuss this matter somewhere else…"

All three of the shadow's eyes glowed extremely bright, engulfing the three demons in a bright light before the doors to the game room slowly creaked open, allowing a familiar antennae haired demon to enter into the room as the light disappeared.

…wait for it…

"AAARGH! MY SLAYSTATION 3! WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED HERE!?"

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_Time: XX: XX_

_Location: Netherworld,_

_Overlord's Castle,_

_Basement's Torture Chamber_

Once a room of despair was nothing more than a dusty remnant of its former glory, rust and dust now forming on the various ways of torture, ranging from the pendulum to the whips. The dank room was immediately lit up by the flashy entrance of the three demons…

…the freaky thing was, the shadow was still darkened even with the light flowing over the three demons. "Ah…I do so enjoy that way of travel…"

"Urg…I think…I think I'm going to…uh oh," Musashi moaned before he ran behind one many torture tables in the room. "BLEH!"

"Ew, that's gross," Renka gagged as a splashing sound echoed through the torture chamber.

"That flash usually has that effect on first time passengers," The shadow explained turning away from Musashi puking.

After a few more minutes of puking, Musashi weakly sat down on one of the many tables used for torture facing both the shadow and Renka. "…So…I've heard that boring…er, interesting tale of that Dark Knight, so what does that have to do with me?"

"…very well," the shadow replied.

"Master B- - - - -!" Renka yelped only to have a shadowed claw popping in front of him, immediately silencing the mage.

"It is quite alright Renka," The shadow chuckled before the claw retracted back into the shadow's body. "I think our future member is entitled to the information about our group…I assume you heard about Sparda, young samurai?"

"Yeah, that's what I just said," Musashi replied raising an eyebrow.

"Excellent," The shadow chuckled as his glowing eyes curved slightly. "Now, I'll assume that you've heard how Sparda managed to slay hundreds upon hundreds of demons right?"

Musashi merely nodded, "Excellent…but you never heard how correct? Well, it's no wonder that if a person would defeat an enemy they would become stronger…well; Sparda had a unique way to become stronger. Whenever Sparda would defeat a high level demon, that demon's body would transform into a weapon."

"These weapons, or better known as Devil Arms, would sync with demon blood of whoever would grab hold of them. In fact, for each weapon Sparda wielded to his name, his strength would increase, his agility would double, and his knowledge would grow with new addition to his arsenal…"

"…some would even compare Sparda to be on equal grounds to an Overlord…"

"…our group has spent countless hours researching on these Devil Arms," Renka chuckled lifting his book up, flipping through the pages. "And thanks to said research, we've determined that these Devil Arms are the key…"

"…the key to defeating that spoiled brat we call an Overlord!"

Musashi couldn't help but have his normally calm eyes open wide, making him forget about his queasy stomach as he stood up on his feet. "Are you two crazy!? Every other day the Overlord defeats heroes and demons, turning them in vassals like us! I and I know for a fact that you two know his strength isn't something to trust to stuff like this!"

"Hey, put some effort in our plan," the shadow commented raising its shadowed claws up in a defensive manner. "If a Demon Emperor could fall to a single dark knight who wielded Devil Arms, then its only logic if a group of demons wielded the same power, then we would be able to defeat an Overlord."

"Logic? Logic?! This is the Netherworld!" Musashi shouted, his spit flying on both Renka and the shadow. "Logic doesn't apply here!!"

"Exactly…" the shadow replied growing larger and larger by the second, towering over Musashi. "…logic wouldn't normally work in this Netherworld…so, we'll simply steal the very logic of another world, and these Devil Arms hold the key to defeat any power Overlord Laharl may hold…"

"…besides…you're either with us, or you'll be serving us soon enough…and if you thought being the brat's vassal was bad, you have no idea how serving the seven of us will strain on you."

"Uh, well, even if you did manage to find a way to beat the bratty overlord," Musashi sighed sitting back down. "How in the world are you going to find this Legendary Dark Knight that passed away over two thousand years ago? I would figure that if a demon that powerful existed with these Devil Arms, then those weapons would be already stolen by other demons…"

"Heh, we don't need to find those weapons," Renka chuckled stopping on one of the pages in his book. "You see…near the end of his life, Sparda settled with a human wife, and fathered twin sons…both of which shared his blood and abilities, including creating weapons from the demons they defeated."

"And if what you're saying is," Musashi stated with his eyebrows rising. "If we find the sons…"

"Then we find the Devil Arms," the shadow replied. "And thanks to our very own Renka here, we know where we can find one of the sons, and we know for a fact that he is in possession of many Devil Arms…more than enough for any of us."

"And we wish to extend this once in a life time opportunity to you, a skilled swordsman to our elite club…"

He couldn't believe his ears, a chance for Musashi to get his revenge on the bratty Overlord, "Heh…"

"Heh, ha, ha, ha, ha! This is quite the position you two put me in!"

"What do you mean?" Renka questioned.

"Now that you've, ha, told me your plans, heh," Musashi snickered, slapping his hand over his eyes. "I now have no choice to join your group…otherwise; you run the risk of me turning to the overlord about your plans. That's why we're in this room right? If I say no, you'll make use of every single one of these devices to make sure I won't talk…"

Musashi's sharp eyes then snapped left and right, "And if you really want to convince someone to join your cause, you shouldn't really have five others hide in the shadows…makes ya look untrustworthy."

With a snap of its darkened claws, the shadow called out five other shadowed demons, all of which ranged from different sizes and wearing different clothes, "You see? This is why we need you in our group Musashi…with your sword skills, hawk –like eyes and your skills in the kitchen; you're just what we need."

"So, what do you say?" The shadow's claws extended in front of Musashi, the curved eyes narrowing slightly a bit more, "The power of Sparda is only a step away…and you just need to take that step."

A smirk appeared on Musashi's face as he clapped his hand in the shadowed claws, "Master B - - - - -, count me in!"

"Good…good," the shadow chuckled releasing Musashi's hand. "Renka…now that we've got the right actors…it's time for us to begin the rehearsal and gather the props!"

Snapping the book shut, Renka tossed the literature onto the floor, "Heh, you got it Master B - - - - -."

The book erupted into a powerful flame, creating a powerful red portal in front of the eight demons, "This party's getting crazy!"

The shadow took a step forward, the portal's light not strong enough to show its true body, "…let's rock!"


	3. Night 2: Showtime!

_**Night Two**_

_**Showtime**_

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_Time: XX:XX_

_Location: Netherworld,_

_Overlord's castle,_

_Throne Room_

Months had passed in the Overlord's castle…

"DAMN IT! WHERE'S MY FOOD!"

…and apparently Laharl was just now noticing that a few of his vassals had disappeared. As if the dirty laundry that was hung over the statues and slung onto the floor, the dust that seemed to pile up over the walls and furniture, or even the fact that the big holes in the walls that the young looking overlord had caused in his fits of hunger, wasn't enough to tell him something was up.

Tapping the rest of his throne with great force, causing cracks to web into the wood of the seat, a powerful flame like aura erupted from Laharl's body, "PRINNIES! GET YOUR ASSES IN HERE THIS MOMENT!"

A few seconds passed, when finally three blue penguin-like creatures stumbled into the room, tripping over their peg legs falling atop of each other. After getting to their pegs, the Prinnies ran in front of the enraged overlord. "What can we do for you, dood?"

"I'm hungry…where's that useless chef?" Laharl growled, not bothering to remember the samurai chef's name. "I'd eat his stupid fried rice than eat another meal from Taco Hell…"

"W-Well, dood," one of the Prinnies coughed, since the other two were backing away from the angry overlord. "Mu-Musashi disappeared three months ago…didn't you notice, dood?"

"Hmm? Disappeared?" Laharl questioned raising an eyebrow up, but that's when the small overlord just relaxed in his seat, the aura dying down into his long flowing . "…I guess that's good. One less minimum waged vassal to pay, besides, his cooking wasn't that great."

"So, what are we going to do about food, dood?" The second Prinny asked raising its wing up.

"I'll just get you Prinnies to cook," Laharl cackled with a lick to his lips, remembering the last meal that the Prinnies had made him a few months ago.

"Hate to break it to ya, dood," The third Prinny gulped, not wanting to get back on the Overlord's bad side…not that it wasn't hard to do mind you. "But, Master Etna took all the Prinnies who could cook with her on her vacation, dood."

"Damn it Etna!" The entire castle shook with some of the windows in the throne room shattering in the process.

Slumping back into his throne, Laharl grabbed his rather empty stomach and growled, "Damn it…I'd even settle for Flonne's cooking…"

Wait for it…

"ARGH! THE HUNGER'S STARTING TO EAT AT MY SANITY!" Laharl screamed into the air, pulling on his hair antennae.

"I didn't think the Overlord had any sanity left, dood," One the Prinnies whispered to another.

"What was that?!?" Laharl snarled, his red eyes glaring directly into the Prinnies' souls.

"Uh! N-Nothing dood!" All Prinnies shouted with sweat beating down.

"Damn it…" Laharl growled, the aura dying down around him. "I don't care who…I don't care what…just get me something to eat!"

"How about a dish that's best served cold?"

This actually caught Laharl's attention as well all of the Prinnies…getting them to look towards the doors to the throne room, both which were slammed open by a powerful force…and standing in the now open door was a cloaked figure, with two large bandaged carryon items on his back. "I assume you know what is best served cold…"

"And who the heck are you supposed to be?" Laharl chuckled cracking his neck, perhaps this was another hero that had some beef with Laharl (heck, most of the wanna-be heroes usually did proclaim revenge against him). "Halloween was a few weeks ago…"

"As was when I took my leave," the cloaked person stated taking a few steps forward, the cloak starting to fall off his body to reveal his purple samurai clothing and his black pointed hair. "But unlike Halloween, I'm a not a pain in the jaw…I'm a pain in your ass!"

"Yeesh, this guy's trying so hard to be cool," Laharl sweatdropped rolling his eyes.

"Master Laharl dood!" The Prinnies shouted flapping their wings in the air. "That's Musashi sir!"

"Hmmm?" Laharl questioned looking at Musashi for a few seconds before he turned back to the Prinnies with a bland look on his face. "…Who's Musashi?"

Everyone in the throne room other than Laharl fell face first into the ground, rocking the entire room thanks to the shockwave. Musashi was the first one to stand up, a large blood vessel popping on the side of his head. "Damn it, you! I'm Musashi! The guy who was your damn chef! The guy who kept making you your fried rice! The guy who hated not only your guts, but his own when he was forced to watch his food be thrown to the floor each and every time…And don't think that's it!"

…yeah, this is going to get a little long winded, so get away from your computer for a minute, grab a soda or a snack and when you get back…

"HEY! Narrator! Don't interrupt my speech!" Musashi snarled roaring into the air.

Well…someone's in a bad mood…

"Hey, are you done arguing with the dumb narrator?" Laharl asked raising an eyebrow, trying to find the invisible entity. "Not that I don't mind him stopping that damn speech…but why the heck are you here and not in the kitchen making up some of that tasteless crap you call food?"

"Grr…I'm here to kick your ass!" Musashi shouted throwing a finger towards Laharl.

…

"HA! HAHAHAHAHAHA!" Laharl laughed loudly with his fang like teeth appearing as he threw his head back. "Don't make me laugh! What makes you think you can win? The last time we fought…"

Musashi merely drew the two carry on items from his back, the bandages slowly unwrapping as he stepped forward, picking up speed. "…last time we fought…"

That's when Musashi disappeared right before the Demon Overlord's eyes, getting Laharl's attention. And immediately Laharl drew his sword from the long scarf he had around his neck, turning around just in time to…

CLANG!

Flames and gusts of wind rocked through the throne room, sending all of the Prinnies screaming into the walls…leaving large cracks in wall from their crashes.

However, Laharl was more concerned with the weapons that Musashi held…key word there being weapons! For some odd reason, this sad chef of a samurai was wielding two similar swords, their curved blades large and sharply plated with long handles that ended in a pair of ornaments that resembled that of small heads…

…the only real difference between the two swords were the colors, the one in Musashi's left hand was a bright blue-green and the other was red.

BAM!

Taking advantage of Laharl's observation (which was rare), Musashi kicked the overlord in the stomach, sending the small overlord skidding backwards. Albeit it was only three feet, but it was still enough for Musashi to charge again, this time spinning around with both swords glowing a fiery red and a greenish glow.

'_What the heck?!_' Laharl thought to himself, bringing his sword up to block the oncoming slashes that his opponent kept firing at him. '_I'm defending…against my chef!? There' no way he could've become this strong within a few…_'

Laharl didn't get to finish that sentence, mainly because Musashi leapt backwards, his two swords being pulled back. This was Laharl's chance to go on the offensive…

…but before he could even take a step forward, a large silver scythe slashed down in front of him, nearly clipping his nose. And as he jumped backwards, three more scythes leapt from no where about to slice him into pieces.

However, thanks to wings (which were easily convertible into his scarf), Laharl managed to dodge the slices at the last second. Floating above his throne room, he saw the mysterious attackers that he would assume were with Musashi…

Grim-reaper wanna-be demons would be the best term for the four monsters, their skeletal bodies walking in a pained position while covered with tattered and black cloaks. Even their faces were skeletal, with large red eyes that seemed to search for anything that was moving…and even more were entering into the throne room thanks to the dark portals that were appearing around the throne room.

"What the heck?" Laharl questioned, taking note that Musashi was just standing at the throne watching as the Grim-Reaper like demons were rounding up the wounded Prinnies. "What the heck are these things ya lame-excuse for a cook!?"

A large blood vessel appeared on the side of Musashi's head as he raised his swords up towards Laharl and sighed loudly, "I don't think that really matters…and in a few minutes, you won't matter…"

"**Brother! Was that a sigh?**"

"**Indeed…a sigh is when…**"

Musashi spun the blades in his hands, so that the face ornaments were looking right at him, "What did I say about talking, you two!?!" And with a loud clank, Musashi banged the two ornaments together before he began to run forward with a great leap. "And don't think I forgot about you…Laharl!"

"A mere vassal dares to call me by my first name?!" Laharl roared, a powerful ring of light appearing around his bracelet. As he threw his fist forward, the ring of light flew directly towards Musashi who was in mid-air with his eyes widening…

SHINK!

Until several red blades of energy connected with the ring of light, forcing it to crash into one of the walls, making it explode in a powerful fit of dust, debris and smoke. With this, Musashi continued towards Laharl, connecting the two blades together to spin them over his head, "Take this!"

Before Laharl could react, a powerful twister with flames dancing it in, erupted from the two spinning blades in Musashi's hands. The twister engulfed Laharl, spiraling him into the ground with a loud crash, sending flames and pieces of the now broken floor flying through out the room.

As the flames and smoke fell to the ground, Laharl stood where the attack had crashed, although he was still standing, his sword was in the ground, propping him up, and his body now scuffed up a little bit. '_What the heck is going on here? Why am I, the Great Overlord Laharl, being slammed by this third-rate cook!?_'

Musashi landed on the ground, a good ten feet from Laharl, a pissed off look on his face as he stabbed the two swords into the ground and looked around, "Renka! Where the hell are you!? I thought I told you to not to interfere!"

"My apologies Musashi…" Renka chuckled appearing out of no where behind Musashi, scaring the much stronger samurai. "But you know what Master B - -- - - said, the groups are supposed to work together…"

"I could give a rat's ass about Master B - - - - -!" Musashi growled pulling the two swords from the ground with a much more demonic look on his face. "I'm taking down this midget of a pain in the ass!"

'…_midget?_' Laharl thought in his head as a blood vessel appeared on his head.

…alright, we're not going to do the whole 'Short guy getting mad over being called short', that's been done to death in Full Metal Alchemist…and again in this author's fictions…

Of course, no one was paying attention to the rants of the narrator (hardly anyone does), especially Laharl who drew his sword from the ground, hoping to take advantage of the two treacherous vassals arguing before him, "Die!"

Without even looking, Renka snapped his fingers…his cape fluttering upwards to show that there was a metal attachment on his back with two long metal curved poles. Both of the scythe-like poles snapped up, sending several red beams shaped like swords flying at Laharl, stabbing the Overlord in his arms, legs and chest…making the Overlord stop and drop his sword. '_W-What the?!?_'

"…game over…" Renka chuckled with a snap of his fingers.

The red aura beams erupted into several explosions that rocked Laharl's body, sending him flying backwards with blood spurting out from the wounds caused by the fiery swords. And as he skidded to a stop on the ground, his back on it, Laharl tried to get up…however, the grim-reaper like accomplices sliced their scythes over Laharl's body, pinning him down. "Damn it!"

"Well, well, well…" Musashi cackled walking over to Laharl to stand over the defeated overlord. "Lookie what we got here…nothing like tasting a little dirt for an added spice now, wouldn't you agree…" That's when Musashi stomped his foot into Laharl's face. "Ya little runt?!"

"You b-bastard!" Laharl managed to spurt out before Musashi rubbed his foot into the Overlord's face a little bit more.

"Musashi, that's enough," Renka sighed with his cloak flowing back over his body, hiding his weapon. "Remember…Master B - - - - - wanted us to make sure that the little overlord can't get back here…"

For some reason, Laharl's energy slowly began to deplete…his eyes starting to close…damn hunger was starting to get to him…

"…fine," Musashi growled reaching into his pocket, pulling out a small black orb that he tossed a few times into the air. "Consider it your lucky day…punk…today you get to live…but the next time we meet…I'll kill you…"

There was something…something black that appeared over Laharl, and the last thing he remembered was when the skeletal demons pulling back their scythes and lifting him up…

**0-0-0-0-0-0-0**

Damn it! Don't do a cliffhanger now!!

(No one listens to the narrator)


End file.
